It's Gonna Be Okay
by MaddyWinchester2000
Summary: Dean wants nothing more than to get a good night's rest. But Sammy always comes first. Set after 14x15.


_**A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first SPN fic. I absolutely adore Sam and Dean's brotherly moments, so I decided to write some of my own. ;) I hope you guys enjoy! I'd love if you could leave a review and share your thoughts (and let me know if there's any inconsistencies, etc.). Should I write more fics? Lemme know!**_

_**Set after 14x15.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

Dean Winchester was tired. And by tired, he meant _dog-tired._ As in, "sleep 'til the cows come home and _then _some" tired. Even skipping out on a hunt and taking a roadtrip with Jack hadn't resulted in much relaxation or sleep. There was too much he was still trying to process, regardless of the fact that he tried so hard to lock the thoughts away, far out of reach. They stayed put just about as well as Michael had in the end.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he made his way down the hall. He could picture his room and his warm bed, and it was a welcoming sight. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get a full night's sleep for once.

Or not.

Dean stopped short at the distressed moan echoing out through the corridor. Initial worry faded as his swirling mind recognized the all-too familiar sounds of someone having a nightmare. His brow furrowed as he tracked the noise—to Sam's room. He cracked open the door and peered in. His brother lay on top of the bed sheets, still fully dressed, as if he'd simply dropped onto the bed and fallen asleep. A frown creased Dean's forehead. Because that wasn't like Sam. Not to mention the fact that it was barely past ten and Sam had been up all hours of the night lately—searching for hunts to occupy their time.

Sam moaned again. "No! Maggie…" He grunted, fingers clenching and unclenching as he tossed and turned.

Dean hesitated in the doorway, eyes on his brother.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Sam choked out, still caught in the throes of whatever awful memories entrapped him. The man was clearly distressed, and Dean didn't want his brother to live through the hunters' deaths again. So he finally stepped closer to the bed. "Sam—hey, Sammy." He reached out and shook his brother. "Sam."

The younger man came awake with a sudden, startled gasp, nearly tumbling off the bed in the process.

"Woah." Dean steadied his brother with a cautiously placed hand to the shoulder. He paused a moment while Sam gathered his bearings. "You good?" Inwardly, he snorted. Were _any _of them "good" nowadays?

He watched as Sam slowly sat up, stuttering for breath and words. "Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry." He ran a hand through his mussed hair and blinked. "Time 's it?"

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "A little past ten. You sure you're okay?"

Sam cleared his throat, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah."

Dean nodded but made no effort to backtrack out of the room. Instead, he waited, letting silence fall between the two of them.

Several moments passed before Sam looked up. His mask fell away, and suddenly Dean could see all the frustration and guilt that he knew had been lurking under the surface. Sam had told him earlier that he just needed time. But time alone wasn't going erase the pain; Dean knew that fact all too well.

"I just—I can't stop seeing them," Sam muttered, massaging the back of his neck. "Maggie…the others. And I hate that this happened to them because of me."

"Woah, hold up a minute." Dean's frown deepened, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You think this is your fault?"

Sam glanced up at him through that long hair of his. All these years, and he still managed to pull off the "I'm-a-puppy-who's-just-been-kicked" look. He sighed. "Dean—you said it yourself. You knew the box was the only way to keep Michael from hurting anyone else. I talked you out of doing it…" Sam hung his head. "I was responsible for them. And now they're all dead."

Of all the—of _course _Sam would find a way to blame himself for what had happened to the hunters. The kid had to take responsibility for everything that went wrong. Apparently he thought that was his mission or something. Dean winced when he recalled his angry words directed at both Castiel and Sam. "_I told you! I told you to let me take that coffin ride to the bottom of the ocean!"_ Guilt hit at full force.

He sighed. "Sammy, listen. I'm the one who made that decision. If anything, this is _my_ fault, okay? So just stop it. It's done."

The younger man shook his head. "If it hadn't been for me, you and Michael would be at the bottom of the ocean, trapped in that box. And—I mean—I'm glad you're not. It's just, now the hunters are...gone, and, and why does someone always have to die?"

There it was. The little kid in Sam—much like the one that came out that night after they'd saved Donatello. He was at his limit. Over it, actually. And it was finally coming out.

Dean must've been silent for too long, because Sam continued on his tirade. "The reason I feel even worse, Dean, is because if I had to do it again…" His voice softened. "I'd still ask you to stay. I would choose you over them." He ducked his head, rubbed his hands across his face.

"Sam…"

The kid looked up at him with those eyes full of guilt and hurt, and dang it, Dean hated it. They were headed into chick-flick territory, but Dean couldn't find it in himself to care. Maybe he was going soft in his old age. "Sammy…" He stepped forward and gripped his brother's shoulders. "The hunters knew the risks. Things happen, okay? And I get it. You of all people should know how much I get it. But Sam—it's over. And you can't let it drag you down like this." Dean was a hypocrite, and they both knew it. But he'd be danged if he let his younger brother continue to blame himself for the deaths of the otherworld hunters.

Sam inhaled shakily and glanced up at Dean.

"It's gonna be okay, kid," he promised softly, moving one hand up to gently clap the side of Sam's face for a moment—much like he had that emotional night outside of the hospital. Michael was dead, and while Dean knew the peace wouldn't last—it never did—he was gonna take advantage of the time he had now with his family.

A small smile crossed Sam's face. "All right, Dean," he agreed, nodding, his voice quiet, but the trust and belief he had his older brother shining through.

The older man nodded back. "Now get some sleep. If anyone asks, I'll be in hibernation for the next three days."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, and Dean grinned.

Yeah, things might actually turn out okay.

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! Again, reviews are my favorite! I hope you have a wonderful day!**_

_**~Maddy W.**_


End file.
